I have no use

for the old 10 and 2 rule
or 9 and 3 one
that replaced it

no use for some floating
hotel in Sweden
that freezes in place in winter

or alarm clock
the cat knocked off
the nightstand

or airbags
that did not exist
in cars crashing

on Ohio highways
in 1985
let’s play putt-putt

and forget about the storm
that refuses to pass
let’s forget

you are dead
let’s backtrack
to the hill

I’m running down
on a calm Tuesday evening
in late June

what if that bug
I almost swallow
is a moth

what if
I do swallow
a moth

will I utter
imaginal phrases
to coax

even the most stubborn ones
to begin to morph
I will be

the most
stubborn case
I handle all summer

the worker bees
are in revolt
not revolting

not going in reverse
rooftop gardens
are fine unless

the daylilies
have agoraphobia

they may blush
with anxiety
refuse to bloom

in the morning
or next night
they may leap over the edge

or get some help
I am supposed to

hate glass block
the way I’ve learned to despise
wood paneled rec rooms

or maroon seashell-shaped
toilets or
the mottled edges

of my former self
what could be more majestic

than the glazed eyes
embedded in concrete
below my feet

than the subterranean
life I have led
without artificial light

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